FUNERAL CRASHER

Jeane Trend-Hill, 55, from Islington, has attended a huge amount of funerals in her lifetime, for people she has never even met...

Hearing the familiar call of the raven, I turned to face the tombstones lined up row after row.

'We are gathered here today for the death of Joe,' the priest announced in the churchyard.

Dressed in black and hearing sobs from the group surrounding me, I took a moment to reflect.

I hope this is what you wanted Dad.

Clutching on to my mum Mary, 51, we cried in unison.

At just 14, I had taken on the task of arranging my beloved father's funeral, after losing him to lung cancer.

Worried that my grief-stricken mum would be unable to manage the stress of arranging plans, I agreed to give Dad the best send-off.

Ordering flowers, inviting his dearest friends, and choosing a playlist of his favourite songs, I wanted a day to show off my dad's loving yet vibrant personality.

From a young age, the churchyard had already been a familiar scene.

With my mum's side of the family Irish Catholic, we would spend one Sunday a month meeting at the churchyard.

Tidying the graves with a flask of tea in hand.

Only, the gargoyles and angels that lay scattered over the lawn intrigued me the most.

For some children would have been afraid, but not me.

And as the whole family were gathered around for Dad's funeral, my affinity for the celebration of death began.

There was something almost beautiful about the end of life, even though the day was of course scattered with sadness.

It was an opportunity to mourn and hang on to the special memories.

"Thank you so much for your help, Jeane, the service was wonderful,' Mum said as she enveloped me in a hug.

Only, six short years later, my mum devastatingly passed.

By 20, I had organised the services of the two most important people in my life and funerals soon became my way of coping.